


Graduation Day

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-04-08
Updated: 2002-04-08
Packaged: 2018-11-10 16:16:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11130297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: RayK contemplates a special day.





	Graduation Day

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

  
Graduation Day

## Graduation Day

by Debbie Hann

Disclaimer: They belong to Alliance of course. Disclaim. Disclaim.

Author's Notes: Thank you to Jo for the very speedy beta!

Story Notes: I got the idea for this one a while ago while listening to Chris Issac's "Graduation Day." Good song!   


* * *

His shirt itched, the chair was hard and unforgiving, and the room was way too warm for comfort, but none of that mattered. 

He stared at the woman across the room. The nape of her neck with its neat chignon and a quarter-view of her profile were the only parts visible between the disjointed rows of necks and shoulders. 

He was back here with all the other friends and family, awash in a sea of pride and excitement that seemed to make the air quiver. Even knowing his fidgeting was drawing disapproving looks from his father-in-law couldn't dampen his excitement. Foot tapping, arm crossing, and shifting in one's seat to jockey for a better view were clearly not on the approved list of acceptable behavior. Determinedly masking the snort of laughter the thought brought, he wondered what his father-in-law would do if he started a wave. 

Almost worth doing just for the look he'd get, but not quite. She wouldn't be amused. Pushing aside the rumblings of rebellion tightening his gut, he focused back in on the blond haired woman across the room. 

She'd done it. 

Three years of constant, endless, hard work. Law Review. Women's Law Review. Internships and externships. Study groups. Mock trials. Torts. Constitutional law. Hell Week. Interviews. Deciding whether to go with a clerkship or a firm or the District Attorney's Office. 

That's what she'd chosen. She was going to be a D.A. He loved the thought that they were going to be working "both ends of the street," as it were. He'd catch them, she'd put them in jail. A duet. Between the two of them, they were going to make the streets safe for their kids, and their friends' kids, and all the other kids. 

Damn, he was proud of her. She'd done it. And she was his. He still couldn't believe they were married. Almost three and a half years and it still made him pinch himself. Married they were, though. Somehow, despite the load she'd carried, they'd still found time to spend together, squeezed in between articles and study groups and stakeouts and cases. Sometimes it was simply cheese and crackers on the kitchen floor at midnight, but they'd made time for each other. And no matter how late she'd study, she always made it into bed at least for a while so she could cuddle into his chest. Didn't matter which way he was lying, she'd find a way to slide on in and press up tight against him. Always made him feel invincible to wake up and feel her slim curves sliding in next to him and her arms twining with his. One night, deep in the dark, she'd told him his arms were the one place she could just be. Blew his mind. Made him vow to always be that place. 

Not a good time for that memory, though, since what had come after her admission was one of his greatest memories of all time, hands down, ever. Sex was always good between them, but that time it was just . . . better. Greatness. 

Forcing his mind away from the vivid memory of the feel of her body on top of his, he made himself listen to the droning drone spouting off about the classes' achievement and how they were all going out into the world to face the challenges head on. The guy must've gotten that one from Canned Speeches R' Us. 

He skewed a quick glance out of the corner of his eye at his father-in-law. Figured. The older man had his lips pursed in his "yes, I'm listening" expression and was nodding sagely at the drone's words. Took a pompous wind-bag to know one. 

Shifting his legs out in front of him again just because it would annoy the man, he let his mind wander. Mentally raising the hood on his dad's GTO, he took apart the engine step by step, cleaning as he went. 

The sudden tumult of applause surprised him as he gingerly tightened a wing nut on the air filter. Hoping he covered his lapse, he leapt to his feet, joining in the raucous applause, fitting his index fingers against his teeth and whistling as loudly as he could. 

Oooops. 

Messed up again. The pained smile on his mother-in-law's face told him that all too clearly. Right. Not nice to whistle. He added it to his mental list. 

A few minutes later, he'd jostled through the crowd of elbows, sharp heels, and chair legs knowing his in-laws were following but more interested in getting to her. 

Suddenly she was there, grinning and flying against his chest. Wrapping her arms around him. He savored the feel of her body against his for a moment. 

"You did it, babe." 

"Yeah." She bounced against him a bit. "Thank God that's over. Now comes the Bar." 

He grinned back. "Piece of cake, babe. You're gonna kick it in the ass." 

She widened her eyes innocently. "Such language!" 

"Yeah, so sue me." Laughing their happiness, he hugged her again, lifting her up against his chest and off the floor, swinging her gently. The slippery material of her gown felt funny trapped between them, and he had to untangle his watch from the weird reverse hood thing in the back as he set her back down. 

"So, my little girl is a lawyer, soon to be an attorney." 

"Daddy!" 

Luckily he'd freed her gown from his watch before she launched herself at her father. 

He smiled at her happiness as she hugged his parents. After all, he told himself, they weren't all bad; they'd made her. 

"So!" His father-in-law rocked back on his heels, looking pleased with himself. "Your mother and I got you a little something." 

She laughed and clasped her hands. Stella always liked presents. 

The older man slipped his hand into his coat pocket and pulled out a box. Ray's heart froze thinking of a very similar box waiting at home. Surely he hadn't - 

He watched as his wife slit the tape neatly with her fingernail. She never just ripped it off and tore into a package. Unlike him. 

Folding the paper back, she slid the lid off the small box. Her eyes got very large. 

Leaning over, Ray looked. His heart beat again - it wasn't the same. Then his stomach clenched. It was a key. Not just any key. A key to a Mercedes. A car they could not, of course, afford to buy themselves. Not on his salary. 

Awe filled her, "Oh!" Then a hurried "You shouldn't have!" as she hugged them both again quickly. 

"Yes, well, image counts for something no matter where one works." 

"Daddy." This time the word was a warning. "Don't start that again." 

"Very well. Your mother and I simply wanted to make sure you had reliable transportation since you will be driving into downtown everyday." 

Ray could hear the accusation directed at him despite the fact that his father-in-law had yet to look directly at him. This was all his fault. He and all his cop ways had bewitched Stella into giving up a bright and shiny future as partner at the family law firm. He knew that was a sin Jonathon R. Patterson III would never forgive. As if marrying her wasn't a big enough transgression. 

Silently sighing, Ray listened as they discussed the color (silver, of course) and model (big and stately, of course), waiting for an opening to get Stella out of here and back home as soon as possible. He had some serious plans here. 

"I also made reservations at Simone's for a late lunch. The champagne is already chilling and Simone himself assured me the duck has never been better." 

Ray's protest of "But -" was easily drowned out by Stella's excitement over her favorite restaurant and favorite dish. 

His father-in-law went on. "And if we leave right now, our timing will be perfect." 

Bleakly, Ray knew he should have expected this. He tried again. "Jonathon, I thought we were all going out to brunch tomorrow. I'd planned -" 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Stella's father stiffen in offense, but he ignored that. It was the pleasure dimming in Stella's eyes that got him. He could see her readjusting. 

He flashed to the small box waiting at home, hidden in the back of his sock drawer. To the bottle of champagne currently dwelling in the refrigerator of their next door neighbor so she wouldn't see it. 

To what the small box held. An emerald ring that matched her eyes. They'd seen it while window shopping last Christmas, dreaming of the things they were going to have after he made detective and she made D.A. Unable to resist the yearning she'd tried to mask from him, he'd gone back later and worked something out the with manager. It'd meant almost five months of peanut butter and jelly instead of lunch with the guys, and a much smaller stake at poker night all Spring, but he'd pulled it off. Just, but he'd done it. 

Pushing aside his carefully laid plans for the afternoon, he smiled at her. "Nah, never mind. Your dad's plans sound good, too." 

The smile and the look in her eyes almost made up for the hollow feeling behind his stomach. 

"That's very gracious of you, Stanley." 

Ray tried to tell himself he was being too sensitive. That his father-in-law's tone hadn't made it abundantly clear who had come out on top yet again. Yeah, right. 

He followed as the other three began walking towards the exit, trailing just a bit behind as Jonathon R. Patterson III guided his wife along with one arm, his daughter with the other. 

Working to put aside his resentment, Ray focused instead on the steak he'd be having for lunch. Simone always did a great one. 

It was ok. So his plans had to be adjusted. No biggie. This was just a day. An important day, but they'd spend the time together later, just the two of them. He'd give her the ring tonight as she slipped in against his chest. Yeah, that'd work. 

After all, they had the rest of their lives together. 

* * *

End Graduation Day by Debbie Hann:

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